The Addicted Enabler
by Bren Gail
Summary: Garcia has an addiction. Rossi becomes her enabler when the Bureau prevents her from getting her fix. Garcia/Rossi. Three Shot.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Bren Gail does not own Criminal Minds, Supernatural, or any other television show or graphic novel. Also, she does not own the lyrics used from Have You Ever by S Club 7. _

* * *

_Inspired by, 4-13-2012, Bonesbird Fanfiction Drabble Challenge, _

_Have you ever loved and lost somebody  
Wish there was a chance to say I'm sorry  
Can't you see that's the way I feel  
About you and me baby?_

_- Have You Ever by S Club 7_

**Chapter One**

She had hated her birthday since she was eighteen years old.

The weekend after her eighteenth birthday, an irresponsible drunk driver in a preventable hellacious car wreck killed her parents who had been on their way to her dorm to celebrate her birthday. Ever since then, each year when her birthday neared, she would plaster a bubbly fake smile, change gears from tenacious liveliness to auto pilot, and pretend that all was well in the Garcia Universe. She would live in auto pilot mode weeks after the day that was supposed to be a celebration of life, yet ironically for her was a reminder of death. Over the years and with each year that passed, her fake smile and robotic motions had transformed, continuously yet slowly, into something more genuine, but not quite completely.

She had long since grieved her parents' death, yet the pain was still there, though subtle and ready to strike whenever her guard was down. When that pain would strike, she found solace in her friends, electronic babies, and career, yet when those coping mechanisms did not work, and regrettably those failed more often than not; she would escape into her graphic novels.

She had an on-again-off-again love affair with her graphic novels and a select few television shows. When she had the time she devoured them, yet most of her time was spent assisting the modern day version of The Avengers. Her current favorite Graphic Novel series would be, the underrated and unjustly defamed Supernatural. She had related to Dean and Sam Winchester the moment she had read the first few pages of that first Graphic Novel. Her heart broke for the poor boys that had lost their mother so young, who years later became estranged only to reunite after their father had went missing, yet then the tragic death of the love of Sam's life had cemented their reunion.

She realized that it was ironic that she had latched onto, and became so thoroughly addicted to such a series that had death closely weaved throughout all of the storyline, yet that was perhaps why she had chosen it as her favorite. The death was fictional, but as the fictional characters dealt with the death and grief within the storylines, she grieved with them, and subconsciously she was grieving her own tangible loss.

She smiled contently while mischief sparkled within her eyes as she remembered that Carver Edlund was sponsoring a new, very rare, fan convention. She just had to attend and there was nothing that was going to stop her from doing so. She sighed happily as she logged unto the website to reserve a ticket to the convention. The arrow of the wireless computer mouse lingered on the number of ticket many tickets would she need? She did not want to go alone, but no one she knew shared her love of Supernatural.

She considered reserving two tickets and dragging one of the team to the convention, but reconsidered that when she saw how much the convention cost. She had no issue with paying that much money, because she'd eliminate her wardrobe budget for several months, yet all that money spent would be for naught, because whichever one of the team that she persuaded to go with her, would not have as much fun as she. Also, the thought of the convention becoming sold out, and a true die hard fan not being able to attend, because she had brought a person that was not even a casual fan to the rare, almost unheard of, convention, she made the decision to only reserve one ticket.

She had to persuade Edlund into meeting with her. She longed to meet Carver Edlund so she could thank him for creating such a wonderful universe for her to escape to, and possibly ask the age old questions that writers are requested to answer; how did you come up with the idea, plot, characters? When do you write? Why did you write? Which character/story are your favorites? Who, if anyone, inspired you and/or the characters? Are any parts reflective of your personal experiences? And so many other questions, she yearned to ask.

If she must, she would use her credentials, to persuade the mastermind behind her beloved series, Carver Edlund, into agreeing to meet with her.

Ironically those same credentials, she planned to use to get what she wanted, would be the reason why she might not be able to attend.

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Sneak peek for the next chapter: _"You owe me, Cara, and rest assured I will collect."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Penelope Garcia was livid.

She had never hated the Federal Bureau of Investigations more than she did in this moment, and that spoke volumes as she had once successfully been on the run from the Cyber Crimes division, that was until she did something stupid. She should have known better than hack into a classified federal document labeled: The Kennedy Curse Exposed. It had been entirely too easy to hack, and she later found it was so, because it had been a trap, no such document existed. She shook her head as she started to digress into old memories instead of focusing on her current hatred with her boss. Oh no, she was not angry at Hotch, hell, she was not even angry with Section Chief Erin Strauss.

She was pissed at Supervisory Special Agent in Charge of The Second Response BAU Unit, Samuel Cooper. She had just logged off from the conference call between her, Director Jack Fickler in D.C., and the irritating Agent Samuel Cooper from the covert San Francisco Office. Cooper had demanded for her to start work on his current case. The Second Response BAU Unit, Cooper's team, had been searching for a homicidal hacker, for the last several days, and was at a dead end. He wanted her personal insight into the case, because of her, or rather her hacker handle, past history as the most known dangerous hacker of the West Coast. Cooper claimed that she knew the inner working of the elite club. She tried to explain that she had fourteen years ago, and that most of it would no longer be the same. The technology was different. The hacking culture was constantly evolving. She could not help, because tomorrow started her vacation. Upon hearing this, Cooper had demanded that her vacation time be pushed back, because only she would be able to assist his team, that no other Analyst would be satisfactory. Fickler had granted his demand.

Fickler had declared that she could take her vacation the week after next.

Had she mentioned that she was livid?

She took a deep calming breath that did not work.

She was not going to miss a once in a life opportunity, the rare Supernatural convention, because a group of Federal Agents could not do their job and properly close a case. What Cooper's team needed was an experienced Analyst; most of the IT team would be a plethora of assistance. What Cooper wanted was a Profiler with hacking experience, but she was not a Profiler. She had learned a few of the profiling tricks, as she called them, although Profilers from other teams or units often got upset with her terming their skills, tricks; but turnabout was fair play, they thought her mad skills were easily acquired. She digressed as she thought of the few times that she had assisted with a profile, times were she was livid then too, but it had been a different sort of livid, because it had been someone she respected, her friend, Hotch, who had been the one to request, strongly request, but request nonetheless that she profile. Except for that first time, but he learned quickly not to ever trick her again, yet that was a different story.

She took another calming breath and got angrier by the second. She had to think of something. She had to get out of assisting Cooper's team. She felt sorry for the victims, victim's family, the area that was being victimized, and even the law enforcement community, but it was not her job to save the world. Her job was to assist a team of rock star first response agents in catching the monsters that they searched and save as many lives as possible in the process, not to become one of those rock stars, or in the case of Sam Cooper, a B-list rock star. Her nostrils flared and her eyes watered from the anger. She did not enjoy being angry. The emotion messed with both her aura and ability to work flawlessly. She had a happy spirit and when experienced emotions that were opposite, she was thrown off of balance.

If only she had access to her personal computer. She had stopped bringing it to work after The Fisher King case. She had learned her lesson, but her own personal computer and USB internet connection would be of use right now. She could dig up dirt on Fickler in order to persuade him into rethinking his decision. Fickler had been a part of the Bureau forever, longer than even Chief Strauss, the only one close to beating him in years of experience was David Rossi. If anyone had dirt on the Director, it had to be Rossi.

She stood and quickly left her lair. The muffled sound of her heels against the flooring quickened. She stormed passed a Clerical Special Agent whom almost dropped the stack of manila folders he was holding. She walked passed Emily sipping on Coffee and Reid holding a bottle of water. Before they could greet her, she was already gone, they were left with the whisper of her perfume. She tugged at the knee-length hem of her skirt that tried to ride up her thighs as she stomped up the stairs that led to both Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner and Senior Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi's offices. Her knuckles rapped loudly against the Senior Agent's office door several times before he barked for her to enter already.

"Rossi, you've got to help me!" Penelope stated after she had opened the door and realized he was alone in his office. Her tone was frantic and her eyes were shifting madly.

"What?" He asked as he stood. Confused at her behaviour, he added. "What happened?"

"You've got to make Director Fickler see that I need my vacation time, when it was scheduled and approved."

"Hotch and Erin already granted it." Rossi said bewildered; with each word she said, the more confused he got.

"No, you don't understand." Penelope answered agitated. "Cooper requested me to help his team apprehend a serial killer hacker."

"Well," Rossi said. "At least it isn't a viral killer hacker."

Any other moment she would have been impressed at his ill attempt at hacker humor, but this moment was not one she felt playful.

"Rossi, this is a laughing matter!" She exclaimed. "I need you to threaten to use whatever dirt you got on our Dearest Dick of A Director so he'll see reason, any other Analyst will be able to help Cooper! I'm desperate, please?"

Her desperation touched him, but he was not yet sold. What she asked of him, was more than she had ever asked of him. He asked testing how far she was willing to go with this crazy crusade. "You do realize that I am a Federal Agent and what you ask is illegal?"

Her right arched eyebrow raised in amusement. "It has not stopped you before from doing it, why should it now?"

He narrowed his eyes at her audacity. "We aren't talking about whispering in Erin's ear about what might have happened when she was climbing the ranks. We are talking about the Head of the Bureau."

"Puh-lease, Rossi, do you expect me to believe that you do not have dirt on him?" She leveled a glare that made him squirm. "Exactly. You have dirt on everyone, just in case the need arises to use that dirt."

"I don't have dirt on you." He revealed regretful of that fact.

"That," She pointed and grinned. "My Italian Stallion, is because I have more than enough dirt on you," She paused as a mischievousness twinkled in her blue eyes. He started shaking his no as he realized what that mischief meant. "Or have you forgotten about those," She cleared her throat dramatically and raised an eyebrow. "Photos of you goofing off with the wardrobe department at the Theatre, while I rehearsed my lines with my costar?"

"You wouldn't dare!" Dave replied mortified at the mere thought of those pictures of him wearing a long blonde wig and a shiny silver dress over his suit being seen by anyone. "You promised you deleted them from your phone."

"Oh, I deleted them, after I sent it to one of my many hard drives."

"Why do you need dirt on old Fickle anyway?" He asked. "Yes, you said something about needing to take your vacation, but why do you need to take it."

"Because I do."

"Bambina, you're going to have to give me more than that." He sighed. "I'm putting my neck on the chopping block, I want to know why."

"I won't let anything drastic happen to your neck," She quipped. "I rather like it."

"Penelope." He warned.

"Fine, stupid Samuel Cooper, demands my assistance, and Fickler jumps."

He shook his head, raised his hand in a silencing motion, and motioned for her to sit down. "Kitten, you're not making sense, and you didn't answer my question, take a deep breath, sit down, and start from the beginning, slowly and clearly."

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_The sneak peak from the previous chapter that was for this chapter will be in the next chapter. The chapter was becoming too long and cut it at the most opportune time. Sorry! Please forgive me._


End file.
